Under darkened green and blue lights, Toronto electronic artist Lou Canon took to the Seahorse stage Wednesday night (October 18) with a quiet, unassuming poise. Eyes closed, she leaned over her keyboard setup, solo, less playing or even attacking it as much as she, almost robotically, twisted and pulled herself towards it.
On record (her debut, Suspicious, was released on Paper Bag Records earlier this year) earns the "bedroom electronic" label it's been given: it's smooth, ethereal, hazy. Live, Canon smartly turned the bass loud, propelling her beats to the forefront of the mix, their endpoints wrapping in on themselves with a distorted edge.
There are still more vibes than hooks in Canon's songs, but when the hooks hit, they hit hard: "Fever," with its "the only trouble is you" refrain, was undeniable, one of the moments in the set when it was easy to forget it was a solo performance, one where the instrumentation was mostly machine-programmed. It was deeply, passionately human.
On record (her debut, Suspicious, was released on Paper Bag Records earlier this year) earns the "bedroom electronic" label it's been given: it's smooth, ethereal, hazy. Live, Canon smartly turned the bass loud, propelling her beats to the forefront of the mix, their endpoints wrapping in on themselves with a distorted edge.
There are still more vibes than hooks in Canon's songs, but when the hooks hit, they hit hard: "Fever," with its "the only trouble is you" refrain, was undeniable, one of the moments in the set when it was easy to forget it was a solo performance, one where the instrumentation was mostly machine-programmed. It was deeply, passionately human.
